


Timeless

by uncertainAuthor



Series: Prompt Writing [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Soldier 76, M/M, Sentimental Reaper, accepting death, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncertainAuthor/pseuds/uncertainAuthor
Summary: Gabriel Reyes doesn't age properly. Jack Morrison doesn't know how to handle losing the man he loves.Reaper can't seem to assassinate his target without hesitation. Soldier 76 doesn't want him to.





	1. Timeless

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet christ, this prompt grew to something way bigger than I thought it was going to. Special shoutout to all the lovely sweethearts in the discord chat that helped encourage me to finish this! (You know who you are, you wonderful beans ♥ )

“You’ve got to tell me your secret, Gabe.” Jack grinned up at his lover, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek from the comforting spot he’d claimed in his lap. The two were watching TV, a long day’s work behind them as they cuddled up on the couch in their living quarters.

Gabriel raised a brow, nuzzling his face into the hand. “What do you mean, ‘my secret’?”

“We’re both pushing closer and closer to 40, yet you look like you’re in your 20s,  _ maybe _ late 30s at the latest. You’re older than I am, yet you still look good, while I’m over here already finding a few gray hairs and crows feet.” Jack chuckled, brushing a thumb over Gabriel’s cheek. “So, what’s your secret? Do you have secret spa days you don’t tell me about?”

The teasing tone pulled a laugh out of him, rolling his eyes as he turned to press a kiss to the hand. “You’ve found me out, cariño. Ana and I have a pact that you’re stuck being the old fart out of the three of us, so we go get facials and manicures every Tuesday.” He grinned behind Jack’s hand, snickering when the man shoved at him for his sarcasm. 

“Real funny, asshole. I’ll just have to bribe Ana into teaming up with me so  _ you _ end up being the old fart.” The blond couldn’t fight a smile, rolling his eyes as he settled in against Gabriel to finish the movie.

* * *

 

Gabriel felt an almost crushing emptiness as he stared at himself in the mirror. Scars littered his cheeks, deep circles framed his eyes, and if he was being optimistic, he’d say he looked older.

But not old enough.

He was inching closer and closer to the big 50-mile marker, yet the man he loved looked decades older. The once sunshine yellow hair fading to a mature silver, wrinkles starting to mark their way across his handsome face. He still looked gorgeous, every bit as attractive as the day they met, but the stark difference in how old the two of them looked felt like a rock in the Blackwatch commander’s gut.

Something wasn’t right with him, he knew that much, and it terrified him that Jack would notice the growing gap between them.

He turned away from the mirror, exiting the bathroom and ducking into the hallway. With a determination burning in his soul fueling every step, he set out for the medical bay. He’d heard that Dr. O’Deorain was scheduled to be leaving the facility today, her funding having been cut off and her contract terminated due to her unethical research.

Gabriel prayed to whatever was listening that she’d hear him out and fix whatever mess he was in.

* * *

“Gabriel, we need to talk about O’Deorain.”

Jack’s voice was cautious, clearly holding back whatever emotion was bubbling through him. Gabriel didn’t bother looking up from the report in front of him, jaw clenched tight as he read over the latest batch of data Moira had come up with from her experiments on him. It made little to no sense to him, but there was the slight comfort of being able to see what she was doing, some kind of written account of the changes she was making to his body.

An icy panic was already creeping down the back of his neck, and all he could do was try to diffuse whatever conversation Jack was trying to initiate. “What is there to talk about? She’s hired on in Blackwatch, and I personally picked her for my team. You and I both know we needed a field medic, Jack, and she’s been doing great so far.” He kept his tone curt, dismissive as he tried to go back to pouring over the report.

Jack heaved a sigh of frustration, crossing the gap between them and resting a hand over Gabriel’s. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” The soft words ripped through Gabriel’s chest like a knife, eyes jerking upwards to meet Jack’s as he continued speaking. “I know about the experiments, the tests, the…” Jack swallowed past a lump in his throat, pausing to pull a small datapad from his jacket. With a few swipes, he pulled up security cam footage from the Blackwatch wing of the facility.

It had been right after Moira had finished the final major alteration to his genetic code, right after he was supposed to have been  _ fixed _ . Smoke was pouring off of him as he shouted inaudibly on the screen, limbs not quite forming correctly as he freaked out over what had become of him.

“When were you going to tell me, Gabe?”

The hurt in his voice, the sound of feeling so betrayed… it broke something inside of Gabriel.

He linked his fingers with Jack’s, furrowing his brows as he fought down the surge of guilt flowing through him. “Jack… I’m sorry. I didn’t-” He grit his teeth when he saw the fear in Jack’s eyes, following his stare at their linked hands. Little curls of black smoke were drifting off of his skin, and it was clear that it frightened Jack. Gabriel withdrew his hand, forcing himself to look away from Jack’s hurt expression. “... I didn’t have a choice.”

“What the hell do you even mean by that?” Jack scowled, the hurt burning into frustration as he shoved the datapad aside.

“Have you not noticed?” Gabriel barked out a sad excuse for a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know why, but I’m not aging. You and Ana are both getting older; going gray, getting wrinkles, aging like you’re  _ supposed _ to be doing. I’m just-” he grit his teeth, fighting to rein himself in. It felt like he was falling apart, the smoke all but billowing off of him as he threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m not aging, I’m just rotting away inside. I needed to find a way to fix it, and O’Deorain was my best bet. All this shit is just extra to help me on missions.”

“So rather than talk to me about it, you go behind my back and become a guinea pig for some mad scientist?! Are you even listening to yourself, Gabriel?!” Jack shoved the datapad back in his jacket pocket, angrily flopping into one of the chairs in front of Gabriel’s desk. “You allowed yourself to be turned into this- this-” He waved his hands at Gabriel, struggling to find the words, “-this  _ thing _ !”

“I don’t want to have to watch you grow old and die, Jack.” Gabriel’s quiet tone was a sharp contrast to Jack’s shouting, reaching a hand up to tug off his beanie and run a hand through buzzed hair. “I’m already falling behind, and if I can’t find a way to fix this, then… then I don’t know what I’ll do.”

* * *

“Jack, would you just fucking  _ listen to me _ !” Gabriel all but shook the other by his collar, the stubborn glare from the man he loved both chilling him and lighting a fiery rage inside of him. 

“Why the hell should I, Gabriel? Why should I listen to a goddamn word you say?!” Jack shoved at him, pushing him out of his space.

“Because I’m fucking right! Are you so fucking stubborn that you’ll ignore a major safety concern just because I’m the one bringing it to your attention?!” As Jack stormed away, Gabriel followed, anger and panic flooding him. It felt like he was reliving Rome all over again, and Jack refused to listen.

“Since when do you even listen to what  _ I  _ say, huh?” The blond turned on his heel, grabbing Gabriel by the front of his hoodie. “I can’t even count how many times you disobeyed orders, orders that  _ I _ had given you, that the fucking  _ UN _ gave you!” He grit his teeth, shoving Gabriel back as he choked on his own words. Gabriel’s heart clenched at the tone, but the panic stayed strong in his chest even as he continued. “You took the mission in Venice into your own hands when I trusted you to do right, you went behind my back to send McCree to London-” Jack wiped at his eyes, glaring through the angry tears threatening to fall. “You went behind my back,  _ lied _ to me, and became a fucking  _ monster  _ when you hired that fucking geneticist! And you expect me to listen to what  _ you  _ have to say?”

“Jack, this is serious!” Gabriel’s tone was pleading, brows knit together in desperation. “We have to get everyone out, and we have to do it  _ now _ ! I don’t expect you to trust me, but I’m begging you to listen just this once.”

Jack opened his mouth, response ready on his tongue as the ground shook beneath their feet. The crash of the explosion reached them in seconds, the glass of the hallway window shattering and flying like bullets. Gabriel didn’t have time to speak let alone think as he lunged forward, tackling Jack down.

The pain was instantaneous, and it felt like he’d been shot with the strongest shotgun in the damn world then rolled in salt and lemon. He grit his teeth, the bitter taste of blood in his mouth, and there was a warm, wet feeling spreading down his back.

He opened his eyes, head spinning as he tried to focus on the face below him. Jack’s face had been gashed open by the debris, but was otherwise uninjured. The weak smile on Gabriel’s lips drew a sob from Jack, but the words he shouted were warped by the ringing in Gabriel’s ears. He could barely feel the hands on his cheeks, fighting to even keep his eyes open. If this was finally the end, he wanted the last thing he saw to be Jack.

“R…” Blood tainted his lips as the ruins around them spun, black clouding the corner of his vision. Was this the end? Was this  _ finally  _ death? “...run, Jack…”

He barely felt the other slip out from under his limp body, barely hear the crunch of his love’s boots on gravel as he ran, before everything went dark.

* * *

It had been years since he felt anything substantial if he were being honest with himself. Years since he came so incredibly close to the end, to finally finding peace. The closest thing to feeling more than a husk, more than a ghost among the living, was when he was on the trail of a certain vigilante.

He knew it was  _ him _ . Soldier 76 was a ghost in his own way, the true identity of the masked man being unknown to so many, but to Gabriel- no, to  _ Reaper _ , he was Reaper now because whatever was left of Gabriel Reyes had burned away and died in the explosion- it was all too obvious.

After the fight in Egypt, he’d taken some time away from his usual jobs, taking a calculated risk by pushing Talon’s assignments to the side.

“He needs to be dealt with, and I need to be the one to do it. I already know all his tricks.”

His reasoning was flawed and selfish, but the council had bought it, giving him clearance to take the time needed to hunt the man down and end him. Reaper could almost laugh at the absurdity of their assumptions, but stayed silent, escaping to his quarters to prepare for the mission.

* * *

It was a careless mistake, for Jack to have stayed in Egypt. Reaper grit his teeth behind his mask, the memory of the shared blows rearing its ugly head as he crept through the dark corridors. Ana had healed Jack both during the fight and likely after, so why would he stay? Why wouldn’t he move somewhere away, why wouldn’t he  _ run _ ?

The decrepit buildings stood like giants around him as he snuck through the makeshift base, slipping between rocks and walls as nothing more than a smokey shadow. A dim light shone through the opening of one of the buildings, and the itch of curiosity guided Gabriel to slink in to investigate. The computer screens were older, a large map with points pinned on one while the other showed a close up of his own masked face. It was footage from the museum, from the failed heist of the gauntlet, and the temptation to break the damn thing was barely subdued. The laptop the monitors were connected to showed some sort of security footage, a view tinged green with the obvious aid of night vision as it flickered between different cameras throughout the area.

A soft snore from behind him sent a pang of what could’ve been panic through his chest, turning on his heel to follow the sound. He didn’t risk walking, merely shifting into smoke to creep closer to the sound. On the ledge near the stairs was a huddled sleeping figure, silvery white hair cascading down to cover an eyepatch and a familiar tattoo. Reaper scowled, the temptation to wake her, to show her that this was no longer the safe house she had believed it to be, was barely contained. The thought of her horrified expression from the day at Hakim’s compound made his stomach churn, and he quickly turned and left the building as silently as he’d came.

He wasn’t here for Ana. He was here for Jack.

There were two other buildings with light coming from inside, brighter than the central building he’d just investigated. A muffled cough from the building on the left caught his attention, eyes narrowing behind his mask as he crept closer. Without ducking into the doorway, he could see a few crates inside, a familiar green duffle bag propped against a makeshift table. He could see the corner of a cot, as well as two boot-clad legs poking out from the parts he couldn’t see, but not much else.

“I know you’re out there. Might as well come in.”

The graveled tone surprised him, but he kept his figure blurred and smoked as he slipped into the building.

It was depressing, if he were being honest. Other than the crates, the bag, and the cot, all that littered the small room was a few spare biotic fields next to that familiar pulse rifle, a dumbbell, an old newspaper, and a half-empty bottle of liquor.

“I didn’t hear any gunshots… guessing you just snapped Ana’s neck to try and stay subtle?” His tone was a deadpan, blue eyes tired and empty as he leaned over to grab the bottle from the makeshift nightstand. His hands were unsteady as he unscrewed the top from the bottle, and the flush in his cheeks let the assassin know that he had already been drinking.

“Guess I don’t get an answer, huh?” Jack let out a huff of a laugh, bringing the bottle to his lips and downing it straight. “Sounds about right. You never did like to talk to me, did you, Gabe?”

The name stabbed him like a knife, the grip on his weapons tightening ever so slightly. Still, he held his tongue.

Jack sighed, leaning back against the stone wall behind him. “Since I’m just talking to myself here, can I make a request for where I’m at when you kill me? If you let me go over by the ledge, there won’t be a nasty spray to clean up.” He chuckled, gritting his teeth after downing another mouthful. “Hell, you could just let my body fall down the cliff, easy peasy.”

“You’re so sure that I’m here to kill you.” It wasn’t a question. Reaper dared a step further, not missing the spike in tension in the man in front of him. Regardless, he gave a halfhearted shrug.

“I doubt you’re here for a conversation between old friends,  _ Reaper _ .” The malice in the practically spit out name made the wraith’s skin crawl, scowling to himself as he leaned against the wall opposite to the disaster of a man.

“Well, I can't say you're wrong. I didn't plan on coming here just to catch up.” Reaper kept his tone controlled, almost bored.

A long silence grew between them, and Jack took another drink. This time he choked, curling over on himself as he coughed into the crook of his elbow. Reaper furrowed his brows, feeling something that was a vague memory of concern as he heard the shakiness of sobs bleeding into the coughs.

“How long were you going to let me think you were dead, Gabe?” The old name didn't hurt any less the second time it had been said, hurt even more than the disgust of Jack calling him by his new name. Despite the hollow ache in his chest, Reaper found the words leaving his lips before he had the sense to stop it.

“As long as it took for you to forget about me.”

Jack let out a sad excuse for a laugh, tilting his head back as he glared at the ceiling. Even from where he stood, Reaper could see the shining lines of tears falling. It made him look younger, the blush in his cheeks and tears in his eyes.

“Do you honestly think I’d ever forget you?” Jack ducked his head back down, and the look in his eyes was absolute torture. “Do you think I could forget everything we’d been through? Do you  _ honestly _ think that, Gabriel?” When no reply came, he let out that sad, sad laugh again, wiping at his eyes. “If you really think that, just shoot me. Blow my head off, here and now.”

“Jack…”

“No!” The sorrow so deeply set in those blue eyes shifted to anger as he stood, unsteady on his feet as he stumbled across the room to Reaper. “You shut the hell up and listen to me. You’ve been so fucking quiet this whole time, you can  _ stay  _ quiet!” Reaper bit his tongue, holding his breath as a gloved finger jabbed his chest accusingly. “If you really think that you’re so easily forgotten, that  _ I _ could forget you all because of something as stupid as time, then I might as well be dead. If you think that I didn’t mourn for months- no, for  _ years _ after the explosion, then you don’t know me at all, Gabriel Reyes- Reaper-  _ whatever _ .”

The anger in the drunken man faded back into the unsettling look of despair that did unimaginable things to the wraith’s gut, the feeling of something clawing at him like it was out for blood being the only thing he could think comparable.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jack grit his teeth, choking back another sloppy wave of tears. “I don’t care what you meant. I couldn’t forget, Gabe. I could never forget.”

Every instinct in him protested the action, every fiber of his being rejecting the movement, but Reaper slowly looped his arms around the other. He could feel just how badly he was trembling, how each sob wracked his entire frame as he fell into the embrace. “You didn’t use to be a sad drunk, Jack.” There was no legible response as the man clung to him, the grip almost uncomfortably tight. If he were being honest with himself, this was the closest he’d been to another person in years, not counting snapping someone’s neck.

“Fuck off, Gabriel…” The words were muffled against his shoulder, soft and sad and doing horrendous things to every wall that Reaper had put in place. He was just the slightest bit grateful when Jack didn’t resist when he was shifted backward, the wraith carefully guiding him back to sit on the cot.

Even once they were both seated on the cot, Jack showed no hesitation in leaning against him, slumping weakly with a soft sigh. Reaper swallowed past a lump in his throat, the sheer closeness being the worst combination of unsettling and comforting to him. “Are you going to be alright?”

His question was ignored, feeling the man shift a little against him. “Did you ever catch up?”

The question caught him off guard, words frozen in his throat. When he looked down at him, he was all but caught in Jack's stare. “Catch up?”

“You had all those experiments done on you to try and age like Ana and I, right? So… did you ever catch up?” Reaper froze when Jack’s hand moved upwards, fingers brushing the edge of his mask. “You’re going to kill me anyway, Gabe… Can I see before I go?”

Apprehension seized his system, Reaper all but frozen in place as Jack gently pulled the mask away. He held his breath, feeling the chill of air whisking away the smoke under his mask.

He knew he didn’t look  _ exactly _ the same as the last time Jack had seen his face; there were a few new scars on his face, his hair had grown longer, and it was honestly difficult to keep his face shaped in a solid, cohesive mass, especially under such scrutiny.

Bleary blue eyes struggled to focus, flickering here and there on different parts of Reaper’s face, that achingly familiar look of concentration digging up memories he’d thought he’d long buried. Memories of nights spent playing cards in the SEP bunkers, each of them trying to have the better poker face while still trying to figure out what the other had up his sleeve. Days spent close to important milestones- birthdays, anniversaries, date nights put off for far too long- trying to figure out just what the other had planned.

Reaper’s- no,  _ Gabriel’s  _ heart ached with a particularly harsh twinge at the memory of the man before him making the exact same face, trying to figure out that it was a small black box hidden behind Gabriel’s back, a ring for each of them inside.

Sitting next to Jack on the tiny cot, the chitter of bugs being the only break in the silence between them, the ring felt like a white-hot iron against his chest. He swallowed hard, brows knitted together, and the sudden shift in Jack’s expression reminded him that the other was still watching him.

“You’re still so handsome, Gabe.” Jack’s tone was far too soft, far too sweet, and the knots in Gabriel’s stomach felt dangerously close to butterflies. “Sorry I’ve gotten so ugly.”

“You’re not ugly.” The response was reflexive, the embarrassment only flooding him after he realized he’d said it. “Jack, you’re drunk. You’d have that pulse rifle to my temple if you were sober.”

“I don’t think I would.” The lingering stare was finally broken as Jack slumped forward, resting against Gabriel’s shoulder as he mumbled. “I don’t think I could kill you, even if I wanted to.”

Gabriel took a deep breath through his nose, letting out a shaky sigh. “I don’t know if I can either.” He held his breath, waiting for whatever response Jack would give to the confession; he was  _ supposed _ to be able to, he was supposed to be there to kill Jack. When the silence was broken by an unceremonious snore, Gabriel found himself fighting down the first genuine laugh he’d felt in a long time.

He carefully slipped out from under Jack, guiding him to lay down on the cot. He looked so much more peaceful in his sleep, the deep furrow of his brow relaxed for once. Gabriel would even dare to say, aside from the silver hair atop his head, Jack looked damn near identical to how he was at the peak of their relationship.

A flash of silver caught his eye as he stood, carefully hooking a claw around the chain and tugging it out from its place under Jack’s clothing. The first thing that caught his eye was the familiar dog tag, but more importantly, as worn as it was, was the simple silver band, worn initials of both of their names barely legible inside. The sight unearthed too many emotions to process for the moment, too many for him to carry with him as he slid his mask back into place.

As Reaper slipped from the compound just as silently as he came, he couldn’t help but feel like he was leaving behind more than just a missed target.

* * *

“Tell me one more time what happened, Reaper.” There was an air of annoyance in the tone, never mind the nails impatiently tapped along the metal surface of the desk between the two of them.

“I attempted to apprehend the target, but he wasn’t alone. The Shrike is still traveling with him, and, based on the stops they’d made in Beirut and Byblos, they’re making their way along the coast going north. I’ll catch them next time when I’m better prepared.” Reaper kept his tone sharp, as though he himself was bitter over the failed assassination.

A sigh of disapproval, and a dismissive wave of a hand. “I still expect a full report before you leave for your next attempt. I don’t expect you to fail twice.”

He stood from his chair, giving a small nod. “I don’t plan to.”

With that, he left the room, making no stops along the path to his quarters. It wasn’t until the door was safely locked behind him, no prying eyes to bear witness, that he tugged the chain out from under his armor. The dull glimmer of a silver ring, initialed JM + GR, filled him with a warmth reminiscent of the accidental night spent with his target.

He’d be sure to convince Jack to rough him up next time. After all, how convincing would it be that Soldier 76 put up a fight if there was no proof?


	2. House of Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Morrison digs through memories while drinking away his feelings, only to be interrupted by a not quite unwelcome visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me literally forever to finish this D: A combination of too many IRL issues kept me from having any motivation to write, but I was determined to see this through! I'm posting this one as a second chapter to Timeless since it's basically Jack's POV of everything before and after Reaper showing up at the Necropolis base.

The first time Jack Morrison had returned to the ruins of the Swiss base, he hadn’t even managed to cross what was once the base’s threshold before the flood of emotion had hit him. So many memories had been made, so many wonderful people he’d had the honor of calling his family... It had overwhelmed him to the point of having to turn back and try again another day.

The second time had gone better than the first, in his opinion; he’d kept the onslaught of emotion at bay as he sifted through the charred remains of what was once his home- what was once the home to what he was most proud of.

With a bit of digging, he’d managed to find what had been his sleeping quarters, snagging a few items before making his exit. Working quickly and quietly, he’d recovered his old duffle bag, a few crates of files, as well as various supplies to help himself get by. He’d grabbed as much as he could, not planning on returning again for a while, if ever.

Then Egypt happened- _Reaper_ happened, and he knew he had to go back.

The pain of seeing what Gabriel had become, of knowing that the man he’d loved was now a hooded mercenary, working for the very organization that had more than a hand in their downfall… Jack’s first response was anger.

After everything that had happened, after everything they’d gone through- that Gabriel had _personally_ gone through in Rome- he wanted to know why he would be working for Talon, _why_ he would betray his friends. Ana had understood his anger. When he told her about his plan to go back to the ruins of the base, she hadn’t questioned him even once, only wishing him the best and a promise she’d be waiting at the Necropolis near Giza when he returned.

The third and hopefully final time he’d returned to the remnants of the base, he didn’t need to waste time digging, trying to remap what was where, which crumbled halls lead to what. He knew exactly what he was looking for and where exactly he should find it. He could only hope that it was intact enough to be salvageable.

* * *

In the comfort of his own building within the decrepit ruins, Jack took a deep breath as he pulled the damaged datapad from his jacket. He didn’t know what was looking out for him, but there had to be something higher up shoving some good luck his way for it to have survived the explosion at all, let alone in a working condition.

His hands were shaking as he powered the datapad on, heart aching as the Overwatch emblem flashed on the cracked display. It was easy to log in, Gabriel’s password still ingrained in his mind just as clearly as the day the man he loved had told him what it was.

_“Well, the security question was ‘where is your home’. You’re my home, Jackie, so my password is going to be ‘Jack Francis Morrison’.”_

With a few simple taps, he had all of the information within Gabriel’s personal datapad displayed before him, preserved in an accidental time capsule after so many years lost and abandoned. He could feel the tears stinging the corner of his eyes as he scrolled through old photos, ranging from snapshots of the original strike team and the Blackwatch crew to random pictures from around the base. A few cheeky selfies from inside of dropships, McCree passed out with his hat pulled down over his eyes in the background behind that gorgeous, shit-eating grin. He couldn't fight his curiosity when he came across a subfolder with his name on it, taking a slow, shaky breath as he opened it.

Half of the pictures were blurry, quick little snapshots that were clearly taken in secret, tiny snippets of their life together outside of the responsibilities of their professions. A half-covered picture of himself, head tipped back in an unabashed laugh, the glow of a TV screen being the only light in the room. Jack’s heart ached; he remembered that night clear as day. Gabriel had insisted for weeks that they spend a night in and watch movies, and the two of them indulged in the cheesiest romantic comedies they could get their hands on once the dust settled from their daily duties.

The old soldier wiped at his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he kept paging through the memories. As he browsed, a small folder caught his eye, tucked away under countless others and lacking a label. He furrowed his brow, opening it to reveal a large collection of video files, each one seeming to be of Gabriel speaking to the camera. He tapped on the first file within the folder, chewing the inside of his cheek as the video began playing.

The room was dark, the light blue glow of the datapad thankfully bright enough to show the grin on Gabriel’s face. “So, I honestly have no clue why I’m recording this, but-” A loud snore in the background cut him off, the grin widening to shit-eating proportions as the man on the screen bit down a fit of laughter. “-but I get the feeling I’ll want to look back on this. It’s currently 4 o’clock in the morning, I just got back from the recon mission in Istanbul, and what do I find?”

The camera shifted as Gabriel stood, turning the camera to the source of the snoring. Jack felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment; it was _him_ , curled up in Gabriel’s bed, sleeping like a rock with one of the Blackwatch commander’s pillows gripped close to his chest. Gabriel bit down another laugh in the video, turning the camera back to face himself. “Jack, if I ever show you this, _please_ don’t hate me. I can’t even properly go to bed because you stole my spot, and you’re hogging all the covers, so I think it’s fair that I get something to embarrass you with later.”

The expression of the man on screen shifted, an almost somber smile slipping into place. “I’ll probably never even show this to you, but if I ever do, I'll make it up to you. Hopefully by then, we'll both actually talk about where exactly we stand with each other, if we ever even talk about it. I mean- I _know_ I want more, but I’m still waiting on you, boy scout.” Gabriel let out a small sigh before the video ended, and Jack felt a whole new wave of guilt flood through him.

He flipped through a few more, settling on one that had a preview with Gabriel grinning ear to ear, the bright scenery of one of the field’s around the base surrounding him. The video loaded, sound immediately blasting from the datapad’s speakers. “-on’t care if you think I shouldn’t record this, Jack!” Gabriel laughed, the camera’s view bouncing as he clearly ran from the blond.

“To whoever watches this, whether it’s me a few years from now, Jackie a few years from now, whoever however long from now! Today is a _great_ day!”

There was an embarrassed groan from somewhere behind him, and Gabriel let out another peal of laughter. Jack’s heart clenched as the video played; he remembered this. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday.

“Gabriel, so help me god, shut it off and delete that! Now!” Jack’s own voice, much younger and far less graveled with age, was shouting from somewhere behind Gabe, voice jumping as he clearly ran after him.

“No can do, cariño, you started this!” Gabriel grinned, turning back to the camera after vaulting over what Jack remembered was a bench. “Today is a great day, because today, one Jack Morrison admitted that he, in all his stuck-up, reserved glory, _loves me back_ ! Jack Francis Morrison, Strike Commander of Overwatch, toughest bastard I’ve ever had the honor to fight alongside, and the best man I’ve ever met, loves _me_!”

“Gabriel, come on! Just shut it off!” There was a laugh mixed in with the yell, sounding much closer this time, and Gabriel laughed in response. The camera view jostled, accompanied by a yelp of surprise from the man holding the camera, and the tumbled view showed that Jack had finally caught up and tackled him down. The view shifted, Gabriel turning the camera to face Jack, all red face and wide grin.

“Come on, Jackie, say it for the recording! Say that you love me!” Jack fought a smile as he watched his younger self bristle on the camera, the words playing in his mind just as clearly as they played from the datapad.

A fresh wave of tears stung his eyes, contrasting so sharply against the mirthful look he had on the recording. As he wiped his eyes, Jack couldn’t resist mumbling them along with the video. “You don’t need a recording of me saying that I love you, Gabe. I plan on sticking around long enough to keep telling you in person.”

The old soldier took a slow, shaky breath, wiping the tears now freely falling. “God dammit, Gabe…” The mumbled words echoed off the sandstone walls, and Jack couldn't help but feel alone now more than ever.

He cleared his throat softly in a vain attempt at regaining his composure; even with Ana likely getting ready for bed on the other side of the compound and no one else in the room to share the moment with, he didn't want to show just how much it was getting to him if only to preserve his own dignity. Giving a soft huff, he quickly exited out of the video, heart giving another pathetic ache at the soft, loving kisses passed between the two on screen before the video fully closed.

He scrolled down, passing through several more of what he was sure were happy moments in their lives, a frown tugging the corner of his lips as the preview images of the videos started to change.

Most of them had been of Gabriel addressing the camera, more often than not with a smile on his face, a laugh on his lips as he recorded the happier parts of his life in Overwatch and, subsequently, Blackwatch. The tone shifted, some of him looking mournful, others not even previewing the handsome Blackwatch commander at all. Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, bracing himself as he loaded up another.

Gabriel looked exhausted, dark circles prevalent around his eyes. There was a long moment of silence, indecision clear on his face before he sighed, all but crumpling before the camera. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I… I think Jack hates me.” The crack in Gabriel’s voice hit Jack like a punch to the gut, the man on screen giving a shake to his head as he fumbled with the datapad recording his lament.

The view jostled for a moment before settling down, the stillness and sudden view of Gabriel stepping back letting Jack know that he had propped it up against something. “It’s been one week, two days, four hours, and about-” he checked his watch, humming a bit as he narrowed down the time, “-thirty-eight minutes since I-... since I fucked up big time, and roughly two and a half hours since I inevitably threw my relationship down the drain because of that exact fuck up.” Gabriel spoke softly as he tugged off his gloves, holding his hands out in front of the camera. Jack’s stomach churned as he watched the crisp, black smoke immediately start to drift off of him.

“Moira said she’s working on something to… _stabilize_ whatever the hell this is, if it can even be stabilized. She says she has no idea what the limits of this smoke crap is, or if it’ll affect my health, other than being a side effect to whatever she did to make me start aging properly, so I have to start taking a log of everything I do. What I eat, how much I exercise, if I sleep, whether or not I take a shit- _literally_ everything. It’s like I’m in the SEP all over again, constantly watched, _monitored_...” Gabriel’s brows furrowed, anger clear on his expression. The smoke thickened, drifting off of his hands at a much faster rate, and Jack couldn’t help but notice bits and pieces of his face were smoking away as well to reveal bones and teeth; it was both horrifying and heartbreaking to watch.

The anger turned to shock, a brief flash of fear mixed into the expression before he calmed himself down, the smoke calming with him until it was just small wisps drifting off of his shaking hands. “I-I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t get this shit under control, but whatever I do, I…” The glistening of tears in Gabriel’s eyes did horrendous things to Jack’s heart, the ache only getting worse when the man on screen sniffled and wiped at them, only for the tears to drift off as smoke and wrack a sob through him. “I can’t expect Jack to love me anymore. I kept my condition from him, I _lied_ to him, I…” He paused, burying his face in his hands as another sob shook his smoking frame. “He said it best; I’m not even really _me_ anymore, I’m just some _thing_ , some guinea pig for Moira to mess with…”

Jack closed out of the video, gritting his teeth as tears stung at the corners of his eyes. No, no he couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t handle seeing Gabriel like this, even in just a video. He felt so guilty; Gabriel had thought that Jack hated him, had thought that their relationship was destroyed from what he’d done.

The old soldier clenched his jaw, biting back a sob as it bubbled up from somewhere deep in his chest. It was _his_ fault, not Gabriel’s. Not even _close_ to being anyone’s fault but his own. He’d been the one who hadn’t been there for Gabriel when the man needed him most, hadn’t been there like a lover- like a _husband_ should’ve been. It was his fault that they’d grown apart, it was _his_ fault Overwatch fell, it was _his fault Gabriel felt so alone, his fault Gabe died thinking Jack didn’t love him-_

Jack hiccuped around a sob he couldn’t fight back, clutching the datapad just a bit too tightly. Gabriel _wasn’t_ dead. He had to remind himself of the fact that the man he loved was still alive, out in the world working for the wrong side. He took a shaky breath, wiping his eyes as he leaned over to his makeshift table, grabbing the glass bottle from its surface and practically ripping the cap off. He tipped the bottle back, taking a deep drink through the burn the cheap but strong liquor provided; if he was going to continue torturing himself with these videos, he damn well wasn’t going to do it sober.

He settled back against the wall, pulling a leg up to let the datapad rest against as he scrolled through the videos. He tapped on another, taking another long drink from the bottle as it started playing.

Gabriel still looked so tired, so worn down, but there was a spark of something determined in his eyes as he faced the camera. “I’m recording this not just to keep a record for myself, but to also have something to leave behind if the mission doesn’t go well.” Jack furrowed his brow, absentmindedly checking the date the video was recorded. He scrambled through his brain, trying to get a timeline set up in his mind as the video continued to play. What mission was he talking about?

“Talon hit us, and they hit us hard. I-” Gabriel took a deep breath, a few small wisps of smoke curling off of him as he grit his teeth. Jack watched him pull himself back together, brows furrowed as Gabriel pulled up a holovid screen to show the camera. It was information about Antonio Bartalotti, and the realization hit the old soldier like a punch to the gut; this was about Venice.

“My team and I are heading to Venice on a covert mission. We’re to break in, dismantle their defenses, and capture this man; Antonio. He’s the one behind the attack on the Blackwatch facility as well as the attack in Oslo, and we need to bring him in for questioning.” Gabriel’s jaw ticked, and Jack could all but read the frustration on his face. “That’s what Jack knows, anyway. That’s what my own team knows, but… I don’t know if we’ll be able to get out, especially not while towing that human thumb behind us.”

Gabriel sighed, running a hair through the fuzzy trim on his head. “I think there’s been an information breach with the plans for the mission, and that they’ll be expecting us in Venice. I don’t know exactly _who_ leaked information, and I don’t know who I can trust anymore, but… we’re not going to get out alive if we go with the original plan. Antonio will just have his connections get him out if we even _do_ get out of there in one piece. I don’t know exactly what we’re going to do- what _I’m_ going to do to get my team out alive, but I’ll have to figure something out soon. The Orca leaves in less than an hour, and I still have to go round up my team.”

Jack swallowed hard as the man on the screen took a deep breath, tired but determined chestnut eyes looking directly at the camera- directly at _him_ . “If we don’t make it out, if _I_ don’t make it out, I’m hoping you look into this datapad, Jack. You know that I have it; you were with me when I set it up. I hope you see this and everything else I’ve recorded, and I hope to God that you can forgive me for everything I’ve done. I hope that you can still love me like I’ve never stopped loving you, even if only for the fact that you’d be loving the person I was before I screwed up _us_.”

The video ended, and Jack took another swig from the bottle. His chest hurt, his _heart_ hurt, and the alcohol was finally starting to kick in. What would he have done if Gabe hadn't made it out that day? If Antonio’s men had stopped Blackwatch in its tracks? He let out a soft hum, carefully capping the bottle and setting it aside for the time being; he could already feel the room starting to sway, his accelerated metabolism finally bowing to the emotion numbing drink.

Jack knew that he'd be doing the same thing he was doing now if he'd lost Gabriel on that mission. He’d be sitting alone, watching old videos, drinking away his feelings, only he wouldn't have the rock in his gut reminding him that it wasn't _Gabe_ anymore. He was _Reaper_ now, because the Gabriel that Jack had known was dead and gone. Buried in the rubble of the base he’d procured the datapad from.

He took another drink from the bottle, gritting his teeth at the comfortable burn. Mindlessly scrolling, he made his way further up the video list, back to the files with preview images of Gabriel grinning or laughing; he’d torture himself with the darker ones later. Right now he only wanted to see the man he loved happy.

He was almost back up to the beginning of the list when he found one that stood out among the rest; Gabriel was dressed up in a gorgeous tux, sleek black tie tucking under the deep navy blue number, and Jack vaguely remembered him wearing the suit for official ceremonies and similar occasions after the Crisis ended and Overwatch formed.

The suit jacket covered in medals and service ribbons was quickly shed off as the video started, Gabriel’s voice hushed but excited as he shamelessly changed clothes in front of the camera; Jack could only flush a light shade of embarrassment as the thought of pausing the video and taking in the stripping man flittered through his mind before the audio started up. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to record this moment so I can look back on it years from now if everything goes like I’m hoping it will. I-I’m shaking, I’m nervous, but _fuck_ am I excited.” His grin widened, glancing over his shoulder at a door behind him in what appeared to be a hotel room, quickly returning his gaze to the camera as he undid shirt buttons with shaky fingers.

“Jack and I just got back from an honorary dinner commemorating Watchpoint Grand Mesa officially being opened and the first of the recruits being restationed there, and I convinced him to go take a shower in the room before we head out for a more personal celebration. Ana, Torb, and Rein all know what I’m planning, and I don’t know if it makes me more or less nervous knowing that the original team all has my back in this.” He let out a giddy laugh, glancing at the door again before hurriedly working his pants off.

Jack’s cheeks heated up, drowning a laugh with another sip of the alcohol as the man on screen tripped on his own pants, having forgotten to remove his shoes first. The old soldier wracked his brain, trying to remember the night in the brief moment between Gabriel’s talking; Watchpoint Grand Mesa had been _ages_ ago, and he hardly remembered what they did after the ceremony. It felt like he was forgetting something important, something just out of reach for his fuzzy brain to grasp.

After fighting with his pants and shoes, Gabriel was right back in front of the camera, reaching around it and digging through what sounded like a bag, speaking as he searched. “It was a pain in the ass trying to sneak this with me on the trip without Jack noticing, but… _God_ , it’s gonna be worth it just to see the look on his face. I mean- I don’t wanna sound like a cocky asshole here or anything, but I really doubt he’ll say no.” He found what he was looking for, pulling back to be in full view of the camera. Jack’s heart stuttered to a stop as Gabriel showed off his findings to the camera.

The small black box hit him like a tidal wave, Gabriel’s voice all but fading away in Jack’s mind. This was the night he proposed. This was the night they declared that they’d only ever belong to each other, no matter what happened, no matter what came between them. Barely legible to Jack’s ears, Gabriel’s giddy voice drifted in an excited whisper from the datapad’s speakers. “I’m gonna ask him to marry me. Even if we have to go through every bit of red tape, every bit of legal bullshit necessary, I want him to know I want him and only him, _forever_.”

Jack’s chest felt heavy, setting the datapad down in his lap as he dug under his collar, shakily pulling the worn silver chain from its hiding place under his jacket. Sitting alongside his tags, his last shred of who he was before his new life as a wandering vigilante, sat one of the two rings currently being shown on the datapad’s screen. Much more worn, having lost most of its gleam after years of wearing it and years more of hiding it under his jacket, but still the same ring.

JM + GR

The etching was worn down, barely even legible anymore, but Jack couldn’t help but run his finger over it like he’d done so many times before. Whether it was for comfort or nostalgia this time, he wasn’t quite sure.

He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat, a small chime from his visor startling him. He picked up the device, holding it over his face as he checked the alert. Jack wouldn’t doubt it if his heart decided to give out tonight, feeling the muscle all but freeze at the security alert from the private system Ana had set up for the makeshift base. There was an intruder.

A skull masked, black-cloaked intruder, wielding two achingly familiar shotguns.

His hands were shaking as he took another deep swig from the bottle, trying to muffle his coughing as the burn of the liquor clashed with the stormy sea of his unsettled gut. It was a terrible idea, trying to drink his feelings away, and now he was going to pay for it. He capped the bottle, setting it to the side as though he were scared to be caught with it. Why was he scared?

He was going to die tonight, now was not the time to feel fear. He was finally going to meet his end, going to pay for his failures.

“I know you’re out there. Might as well come in.” He hoped that his voice didn’t come off as shaky as he felt, not sure if the hooded mercenary would even be able to hear him. Sure enough, a swarm of black smoke drifted into his room, slowly solidifying into a human form.

“I didn’t hear any gunshots… guessing you just snapped Ana’s neck to try and stay subtle?” He fought to keep his tone even, a near deadpan as he reached for the bottle once more, shakily unscrewing the cap once more. Maybe he wouldn’t even feel the gunshot if he finished the bottle off. There was no response from his unwelcome visitor. “Guess I don’t get an answer, huh?” Jack breathed out what could barely be considered a laugh, taking another deep drink before speaking again, keeping his tone soft and void of the mess of feelings fighting inside of him. “Sounds about right. You never did like to talk to me, did you, Gabe?”

He noticed the Reaper shift in the corner of his eye, part of him hoping the name hurt to hear, another part praying he still even remembered who he was. The Gabriel he knew would never betray him- betray Overwatch- to the point that the ghostly man in front of him had, so who was to say that he even recognized himself as Gabriel anymore.

More silence. Jack let out a noise that was a cross between a sigh and a huff as he leaned back, prattling on as his voice merely echoed off the walls. Was he possibly just hallucinating the whole situation? “Since I’m just talking to myself here, can I make a request for where I’m at when you kill me? If you let me go over by the ledge, there won’t be a nasty spray to clean up.” He chuckled, clenching his jaw as he downed more of the liquid courage. “Hell, you could just let my body fall down the cliff, easy peasy.”

“You’re so sure that I’m here to kill you.” Ah, so he _could_ speak, how comforting.

“I doubt you’re here for a conversation between old friends, _Reaper_ .” Jack tried his best to spit out the name, jaw clenched as he watched the man shift to lean against the wall in front of him. The closeness made his instincts go haywire; part of him wanted to run, part of him wanted to fight, part of him wanted to just break down in the other’s arms and pretend, if only for a moment, that it was still _his_ Gabriel.

“Well, I can't say you're wrong. I didn't plan on coming here just to catch up.” The bored tone tore at Jack’s heart, and he merely glared at the masked man, bringing the bottle back up to his lips as the silence between them lingered.

The burn was starting to become too much, the liquid catching in the old soldier’s throat as he ducked his head into his elbow. The more he coughed, the worse he felt, and before he knew it he was crying. He felt so weak, so pitiful as he sat in front of his killer-to-be, drunk off his ass and far too emotional.

Before he could stop himself, before another cough could cut him off, words were falling from his lips. “How long were you going to let me think you were dead, Gabe?” Tears blurred his vision as he looked up at the hooded menace, brows knit together.

“As long as it took for you to forget about me.” The response came far quicker than he’d expected, and he couldn’t help but let out a choked laugh, shifting his gaze to glare at the ceiling. That was _bullshit_ , and he didn’t want the assassin to see that such bullshit made his heart ache.

“Do you honestly think I’d ever forget you?” He dropped his head back down to direct his best attempt at a glare at Reaper, hurt clear in his eyes over any anger he tried to put forward. “Do you think I could forget everything we’d been through? Do you _honestly_ think that, Gabriel?” The lingering silence returned, and Jack choked out another laugh as he wiped his eyes, the glare back in full force. “If you really think that, just shoot me. Blow my head off, here and now.” It’s not like that wasn’t what he was here to do anyway, why dance around the subject? Why the delay? Was it to torture him even more?

“Jack…” The tone was too soft, too sincere, too close the Gabe he used to know, and it made Jack’s stomach churn. Why wasn’t he shooting him, putting him out of his misery? Why wasn’t he doing what he came to do?!

“No!” He was genuinely angry now, pushing himself up to try and walk over to the loitering shadow, and Jack fought hard to not stumble as he crossed the short distance between the two of them. “You shut the hell up and listen to me. You’ve been so fucking quiet this whole time, you can _stay_ quiet!” He finally crossed the distance, jabbing a finger against the thick kevlar covering the man’s chest, glaring at the hollow eyes of his mask. “If you really think that you’re so easily forgotten, that _I_ could forget you all because of something as stupid as time, then I might as well be dead. If you think that I didn’t mourn for months- no, for _years_ after the explosion, then you don’t know me at all, Gabriel Reyes- Reaper- _whatever_ .” He could tell that he was stumbling over his words, slurring and spilling too much of how he felt, but _dammit_ , it felt fantastic to get it out. The anger slowly dissipated, fading back to the painful despair clawing at his heart.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Again, the words were too soft, too sweet to match the killer in front of him, and Jack felt another sob wrack through his own frame. He grit his teeth, choking back another sloppy wave of tears.

“I don’t care what you meant. I couldn’t forget, Gabe. I could never forget.” He’d had nightmares about the explosion almost every night since it happened, the sight of Gabriel crumpled and bleeding out, shards of glass and metal thrust into his back, begging him to run. Smiling as his life flickered from him, smiling because he’d managed to save Jack one last time, even when it was Jack’s fault for not taking him seriously. His petty grudge had caused their downfall, and it killed him every night he had to relive that moment.

Jack felt his legs threatening to give out under him at the memory, reaching out and clinging to the man in front of him. The arms hesitantly wrapping around him gave him little comfort as he sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to the cloaked man like a lifeline.  “You didn’t use to be a sad drunk, Jack.”

He wanted to laugh, the sound of his name on the other’s lips tearing at every fiber of his being. “Fuck off, Gabriel…” His throat felt raw from the crying and yelling, his whole body feeling limp and numb as Gabriel shifted him over to the cot. He didn’t think twice about slumping against him, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster he’d put himself through leading to the impromptu meeting.

There was a brief stretch of silence, broken only by Jack’s soft sobs, before either of them spoke. “Are you going to be alright?” He wanted to laugh at the question; he wasn’t alright. He felt broken, now more than ever. It was easy enough to go on when he was alone, fighting to get to the bottom of the mess that lead to the explosion, to hunt down and take out as many Talon members as he could, to try and get revenge for everything he’d lost that day, Overwatch and otherwise. All the people who never got to go home to their families that day, his own family torn apart.

But here, now, leaning against Gabriel… He knew he wasn’t alright, and there wasn’t any fighting it. Once whatever mind game the assassin was playing was over and done with, it’d all be over. Rather than answering the question, he decided to propose one of his own. He wasn’t going to make it out of this alive, so he might as well get some closure for the buzzing swarm of memories tormenting his drunken mind. “Did you ever catch up?”

“Catch up?” Even with his eyes hidden behind the mask, Jack could feel that Gabriel’s eyes were on his, and he wished more than anything that he could pull the mask away and see him as himself again.

“You had all those experiments done on you to try and age like Ana and I, right? So… did you ever catch up?” His tone was hardly above a whisper, words too delicate to risk speaking them at a louder volume. An unsteady hand reached upwards, barely brushing against the corner of the mask. “You’re going to kill me anyway, Gabe… Can I see before I go?” If he could just see him again, just one last time, he could handle this, be okay with it even. He could die in peace.

Moving slowly, giving the other a chance to stop him if he wanted, Jack gentle removed the mask, soft wisps of black smoke drifting out the minute the ivory cover was moved. He looked so similar, yet so strikingly different; his hair had grown out, and a few streaks of gray were barely noticeable under the veil of smoke slowly drifting off of him. There were new scars mixed alongside the old, familiar ones, and Jack’s stomach clenched when a few pieces of the man’s face started drifting away with the smoke, revealing the bones and teeth under his flesh.

Gabriel had apparently been aware of this, the missing pieces of his face slowly drifting back into place as he was examined. When he was pulled back together, everything back where it should be, Jack’s heart fluttered; he was still the same Gabriel he knew under the mask, just a little older and a little less human.

He took in every detail, drinking it in like a lost man in the desert found water. He wanted to lean in, to crash his lips against Gabriel’s and remind him of what they used to be, what he wished they still were, but he knew that he shouldn’t. Any minute now, any _second_ , Reaper would be tired of this nostalgic moment, this brief respite, and he’d finish what he came to the base to do. Jack’s face softened, part of him screaming that he shouldn’t feel so okay with that.

When he spoke, his voice was still barely above a whisper, affection dripping into his voice as his eyelids drooped. “You’re still so handsome, Gabe. Sorry I’ve gotten so ugly.”

“You’re not ugly.” The old soldier almost smiled at that, the corner of his mouth twitching just the slightest as he fought to keep his eyes open. He felt exhausted, but he didn’t want to look away, not yet… “Jack, you’re drunk. You’d have that pulse rifle to my temple if you were sober.”

The words almost made him laugh, breathing a soft sigh as he shifted to lean against Gabriel’s shoulder. He let his eyes close, keeping the other’s face at the front of his mind. Sleep was creeping through his mind, and his words were barely a murmur. “I don’t think I would. I don’t think I could kill you, even if I wanted to.”

He heard something soft, something all but whispered as he drifted off, barely feeling the wisping pillow beneath his head shiver, but none of it came through his sleep-fogged mind. The only thing Jack could think of, and the only thing lingering in his dreams that night, was Gabriel’s face, looking as surprised and confused as he himself felt.

* * *

 Upon waking, Jack was greeted by an impatient tapping, like nails on ceramic, bleary blue eyes cracking open to seek out the source of the noise that had disturbed the first genuinely good dream he’d had in ages.

“So… Gabriel was here last night, wasn’t he?” Ana’s voice cut through the last of his weariness, jolting up in bed as he turned to face the woman lingering in the doorway to his room. “I saw the security camera footage, Jack. I woke up to the alarm system going off, and, since you never shut it off if it was a false alarm, nor did you come and wake me, I… assumed the worst until I came to check on you to simply find you sleeping off a night of drinking.” A frown marred her lips, raising her teacup to her lips and taking a slow sip.

He could practically feel the blood draining from his face, swallowing through the sudden dry feeling in his mouth. “Ana, I didn’t-” he was cut off when she held a hand up, biting his tongue and allowing her to speak.

“I don’t know what happened between you two last night, or why he didn’t try to kill either of us, but… if you want to talk about it, I’ll be in my room.” She offered a soft, almost motherly smile before turning, quickly leaving the doorway before Jack had a chance to respond.

His eyes lingered on the empty space for a moment before drifting to the empty space next to him, the hazy memories of his conversation with Reaper- no, with _Gabriel_ , sluggishly drifting through his mind. It hadn’t been a dream, yet here he was, still alive. He closed his eyes with a sigh, dropping his head into his hands as he tried to think over just what the hell had happened.

A soft clinking caught his attention, cracking his eyes open to see the silver chain around his neck not quite where he left it the night before, and a whole new wave of emotion flooded his senses.

He needed to see Gabriel again, he needed answers, but he didn’t know if or when he’d get the chance. He could only hope that whatever kept the shadow of a man from killing him was going to last, and that there was a chance, no matter how slim, that he could get the Gabriel he knew back.


End file.
